“I’m too old to be crying.”

  Young Robert lay on his back in his living room in 2003.

  “Fuck off, no you’re not,” Young Chase said. “I cry all the time.”

  “Really?” Robert asked. “When?”

  “When I was your age, I cried for weeks when the Raiders left L.A.” Chase was sitting on the couch, reading a magazine.

  Robert sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Yeah, that’s totally the fuckin’ same as my dad never being home.”

  “Woah, motherfucker,” Chase dropped the magazine down. “Language.” He smirked. “And it was the same. My pops had season tickets growing up. Seats sucked but I just liked bein’ there with him. So yeah,” he stood and picked up a pillow, “when they moved, I was crying like a little bitch too.” He threw the pillow at Robert.

  Robert threw it right back with a smile, then asked, “Are you saying I’m crying like a bitch?”

  “Yes, bitch,” Chase answered. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. What do you want from the store? Your dad gave me a hundred and I gotta break that shit anyway.”

  “He pays you?”

  “To be around your cryin’ bitch ass?” Chase asked, putting on his shoes. “Fuck yeah, he pays me. Now, come on. Whatever you want.” He picked up his goggles off a hook on the wall, slid them on, then started stretching. “Just make it less than twenty dollars cause I’m not trying’ to go broke every time you get lonely.”

  “Can I get a Twinkie?” Robert asked.

  Chase laughed. “Hey, cause you’re crying, you can have two.”

  “They come in two packs.”

  “No shit kid,” Chase opened the front door. “I was joking.” He glanced over his shoulder and said, “Keep up.”

  Then he posed, light flashed, and he was gone—the shockwave shaking the doorway enough to knock the coat rack over. Robert picked up the coats and hat, walked back inside, and had only made it back to the couch when Chase flew back into the house, closing the door behind him. In an instant, the coats were out of Robert’s hands and he was holding a paper bag instead.

  “There bitch,” Chase was already sitting on the stairs with a drink in his hand. “You happy now?”

  Robert looked in the bag and pulled out and entire box full of Twinkies. “Woah.”

  “Yeah, woah,” Chase said. “Now you can be sad like, 8 more times before bothering me.”

  Robert stared at the Twinkies and smiled, looking up at his friend.

  “I didn’t realize you two were that close,” Blonde Blazer said. “That it went back that far.”

  Chase lay unconscious in the infirmary bed in front of them, a respirator strapped to his face.

  “Should’ve kept in touch,” Robert said quietly. “But… for a long time, seeing him reminded me that my dad was gone.”

  “I’m sorry.” Blazer stood leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

  “Chase’d only babysit nights when Dad had to deal with something big. Working late, he called it. I was fine being alone but I’d still ask to have him watch me cause I could guilt trip him into buying me shit. He never said no.” Robert let out a humorless laugh, then added, “I made him run a lot back then.”

  “Right,” Blazer pushed off the wall. “So maybe one less store run for bitch ass Robert and he wouldn’t be stuck in here? That’s what you’re saying, right?”

  “I mean, it was,” Robert admitted, “but now that you put it like that…”

  “Hey,” Blazer said. “The only person that put Chase here… pending the investigation, Invisigal’s suspended, obviously, but… I think you should consider cutting her from the team.”

  Robert just stared at the floor, lost in thought.

  “I’m not saying you should,” Blazer continued. “I’m just saying you should consider it. It’s a hundred percent your call.”

  “Can I get back to you?” Robert asked meekly. “I really don’t want to think about it right now.”

  “Of course,” Blazer said. “Yeah. It’s just. I can’t help but think that we’ve already cut a hero for far less.”

  “We had to send a message.”

  “That’s kind of my point,” Blazer shrugged.

  Robert leaned back and scrubbed his face with both hands. “It just gets better and better.”

  When he finally pulled his hands away, Blazer was down on one knee in front of his chair. She held a dollar bill up to him and asked, “Vending machine?”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Robert slumped forward and asked, “Whatever I want?”

  She nodded. When he grabbed the bill, she wrapped her hands around his, folding the bill into his palm and holding her hands there. “He’s so fucking proud of the man you’ve become… he told me that.” She stood back up and touched his shoulder before leaving.

  Robert just sat there as his clenched fist started to shake. As soon as he heard Blazer leave the room, he broke down crying, laying a hand on Chase’s bed.

  At the vending machine, Robert tried ordering a Twinkie. The machine kept refusing to accept the dollar bill. Robert kept trying but it just wouldn’t take it. He eventually took a deep breath, sighed, and let his forehead thunk against the glass.

  A hand held up his dollar bill next to his head—Waterboy.

  They dampened the bill then stuck it in the microwave.

  “You okay, bud?” Robert asked.

  “It’s just—I’m just mad,” Waterboy said, wiping a tear from his eye.

  “Yeah. I’m a little mad too.”

  The microwave beeped done and Robert retrieved the bill.

  “I can’t,” Waterboy said. “It’s not fair. Invisigal was the one who did—and then Chase shouldn’tve…” he weakly slapped a cup off the counter into the sink, then picked it back up. “Do you think he did the right thing? I mean, I don’t… It seems very not clea—unclear.”

  “I think Chase knew he was the only one who could save her and he knew the risk,” Robert answered. “So yeah, I think it was ultimately the right thing.”

  He walked over and put the dollar bill into the vending machine, which finally accepted it. He keyed in the code and the mechanism rotated, pushing the Twinkie closer. But it stopped short, not actually dropping the snack cake.

  “Fuck,” Robert muttered. “Case in point…”

  Movement in the reflection caught his attention and Robert dodged just in time as Waterboy threw a chair through the vending machine glass.

  “Umm. Feel better?” Robert asked.

  Waterboy was breathing hard. “Kinda. I’ll clean it up.”

  Robert returned to his desk with an armful of looted vending machine snacks. He picked up his headset, slid it on, and keyed the comms. “Hey, so… you’ve all probably heard some version of what happened. Uhh, let’s get to it. Main takeaways are that Invisigal has been suspended so we’re a person down this shift… and that Chase is in the infirmary and… he’s in pretty rough shape.”

  Robert took a breath, steadying his voice. “Despite his… disposition, he really likes you all… just don’t tell him I told you that. I’ve found doing something good always help when I’m feeling bad… we’re fortunate to have that opportunity… something Chase never took for granted. So, let’s get to work.”

  It was a rainy day in L.A. as Robert logged into his dispatch system.

  The first call to come in was about a dozen 25-ton beached whales on the coast that needed to be helped back into the ocean. Robert sent Punch Up and Flambae. Then there was a call about a landslide at a resort. Robert sent Malevola and Prism.

  Then the acid-vomit villain “Up-Chuck” started terrorizing people at a stadium after his rugby team lost. Robert sent Waterboy, Flambae, and Sonar to handle him.

  A call came in about a Volta Virtu Car that was out of control. Robert was able to hack in and get it under control.

  Golem suddenly could be heard crying and hurling over comms.

  “Golem’s shit faced,” Robert said. “I think he’s about to piss mud on the high school.”

  “Yeah, I saw him pulling over a beer truck earlier,” Malevola said. “I did think it was weird.”

  “C’mon buddy,” Robert said. “Spit it out.”

  “Lot of vomiting this shift,” Flambae said.

  Golem’s hurling intensified.

  “Golem, I get it,” Robert said. “I want to get shit faced right now more than anything. But we’ve got a job to do and I need all of you to just hang in there until the end of the shift. After that, you can do whatever the fuck you want. Cool?”

  “Cool,” Golem rumbled.

  “Can someone please go get Golem?” Robert asked. “Before he does more property damage?”

  Robert sent Punch Up and Prism.

  A call came in about a super that could control bugs using them to attack a farmer’s market over use of pesticides. Robert sent Waterboy and Malevola and Mal apparently sent the bees to another dimension.

  “I hate the fucking rain,” Flambae said. “Flying’s a bitch, you can’t see shit.”

  “The streets turned into a goddamn slip-n-slide,” Punch Up said.

  “I fucking love slip-n-slides,” Golem responded.

  “I haven’t seen it come down this bad in a while,” Prism noted.

  “I like it,” Robert said. “Feels right for today.”

  “Fucking cool it, emo boy,” Flambae said back.

  A call came in about the talk show host Bone Zone being held hostage by a gang. A man that shoots fire from his hands and a fucking bat-monster felt right for the job.

  Then a call came in confirming one of the Z-Team members for an interview to reassure the public that they are the good guys now. Robert sent Prism.

  Then the mayor’s assistant called requesting help getting to the airport on time. Malevola and Waterboy.

  Galen hopped on the line and said, “Red Ring’s coordinating strikes across Torrance. Looks like they’re hitting the port next.”

  Robert sent Flambae and Golem to fuck them up.

  “Fine, I’ll fucking say it,” Flambae spoke up. “What if Chase dies?”

  “If you don’t shut your mouth,” Prism muttered.

  “What’re you on about, lad?” Punch Up asked.

  “Holy shit man,” Sonar said. “That’s dark, dark.”

  “Th-that’s a—why even,” Waterboy blustered.

  “Not talking about it won’t make it go away, okay?” Flambae said. “These fucking babies.”

  “If he dies,” Malevola said carefully, “he’ll be taken care of. That I can promise.”

  “How do you know?” Punch Up asked.

  “I just do,” Malevola answered. “Trust me.”

  “Girl,” Prism said, “what the fuck even are you?!”

  A call came in about a neighborhood flooding due to rain. Robert sent Waterboy and Prism. Then there was a call about a mass pile-up and a tank that caught fire. Robert sent Golem, Malevola, and Punch Up.

  “The room’s booked, yeah?” Prism asked.

  “Yeah, confirmed it this morning,” Punch Up responded. “All good.”

  “Like we don’t have enough fucking problems,” Flambae muttered.

  “Whatever,” Malevola said. “See you all there.”

  “Okay, team,” Robert breathed. “Good shift, all things considered. See you tomorrow. Hopefully with some good news.”